The Skywalkers' puzzle
by Mint1977
Summary: In an AU, a crime lord "named" Vader blackmails Obi-Wan, a Force-Sensitive businessman. Years later, their grandchildren start an informal investigation to figure out who was responsible for starting the decades long war between the First Order and the New Republic. Not Reylo.
1. Chapter 1

_NOW_

First screams and footsteps fill up my ears. I know they're behind me.

They scream one thing but the only words I can hear in my mind are _caught! Shouldn't have come! Shouldn't have come!_ I grip the cylindrical object tighter and tighter in my hand with each word replaying itself. Somehow, the idea of taking advantage of my legs for escape doesn't click in my mind.

A scattered number of beings from various species look from me to whoever is behind.

Pale fingers grip my arms and the neon-lighted buildings tumble out of my sight.

* * *

 _THEN_

He held the red light far down enough so that it didn't burn his face, but close enough so that it made his scar look like chicken-scratch. If the red light was extinguished, the only source of light would have been gone.

"How long have you known the Senator?" he asked.

I scratched my beard. "Hard to tell, but I think for a couple of years. She's a good friend of mine." I added.

"Listen, Kenobi." he said, leaning closer from his seat on the wooden crate. "I know your 'skills.' You're a good businessman, head of one of the most prestigious companies here on Imperial Center. You've had the privilege of meeting such a number of the wealthy populous. Also people in power from both sides."

He paused and the tension hung around the red. I glanced behind me at the daylight piercing the sheet that hung in front of the alleyway. His blue eyes stabbed ice at me from under his cloak.

"I am flattered that you think I qualify, but I simply cannot–" I started to say.

He cut me off. "Save it, Kenobi. The Emperor knows. He knows how special you are. You can either consider yourself lucky or dead by having the rare privilege of… knowing me. Normally, people like you are either sent to die or never to be seen again. He has an offer for you."

"You can't possibly think of bribing me with credits." I half-scoffed. _At the same time, maybe I can help the Rebellion._ I thought. _Get the credits for the Rebellion._

"No. Something your competitors may want, if need be. Your life. I can help you. They would kill to be in your position right now."

I narrowed my eyes at him.

"You said you and the Senator are close." he continued. "I'll make this easier for you. She is a suspected Rebel Spy. Why else do you think your life is spared?"

"And?"

"If you refuse my offer, you know what the Imperials are capable of?"

A small ball formed inside my stomach as I said, "Yes, the not-so-secret weapon of the Empire?"

"Tell me, what do you know about your friend?"


	2. Chapter 2

_NOW_

"State your name, please." the female voice says to my foggy brain.

I'm not sure whether I should take the risk of opening my eyes or not. What if whoever is in front of me is a part of the First Order?

Holding my breath, I "reach" into the Force. The room feels clean and too inorganic. There is only one other occupant in here. The Force is radiating off of her, as if the Midichlorians are screaming _at me_ in unison inside of her very being. This time, I am positive I'm not just imaging another Force-Sensitive.

I crack my eyes open and the first thing I see is blank white.

I open my mouth to gulp in air that scratches my throat. Putting a hand to my throat, I cough. I thrust my head up as someone's hand pushes my forehead against a soft puff.

"Sir, you've got to rest." her voice is authoritative like

my mother's, but carries a gentleness reminds me of someone else I am still unsure of. I know this person is not my mother. Turn my head over to the direction of the voice.

My eyes rest on a young woman, barely older than a girl, with shoulder-length brown hair, sitting on a wooden chair. She is dressed in a simple dark gray tunic and black pants though she manages to look elegant in simplicity.

Swallowing the lack of saliva I have left in my mouth, I ask, "Are you with the First Order? Where's–where are–"

"No." she says. "You were caught with an item. I believe it is not yours?"

I remember. "That lightsaber," I want to shout, but my hoarse voice is holding me back. "It belonged to a family member."

"It was in the archives of the old Imperial Palace. That building is off limits. I don't know how you could've made all the way out to Coruscant's Undercity without getting caught."

"My mother says I am 'gifted' like her Father. She doesn't use the Force like he did." I add a side comment.

"I am also gifted, my father told me that. He trained me as a Jedi, but I'm also a Healer." she tells me. "I can certainly tell you're gifted, I should've figured it out that's how you made it far. You're not a trained Force-User. If you were, I would've known. Your power is raw, uncontrolled."

"I know. So is my mother's. She would not let me be trained by the Grand Master." I suddenly feel a twinge of jealousy for this young woman whom I barely know, but at the same time it feels as if I've known her, or _should've_ known her.

* * *

 _THEN_

"He knows." I nearly yelled from across the coffee table.

"What–who–"

"You need to get off-planet, Padmé."

"Knows what? Who?"

It suddenly occurred to me that I hadn't even introduced the subject of our hurried conversation. "S–someone, he's called Vader, I think. He suspects you to be a Rebel Spy, a–and he knows you and I are both friends."

"Do you know who Vader is?"

"He's the Emperor's secret apprentice who'll succeed him or some crime lord, I think. He didn't tell me his real name." Realizing this, I inwardly scolded myself. "I mean, I know that isn't his real name."

"Obi-Wan, you know I can't leave Imperial Center."

"Yes, I know. You have duties in the Imperial Senate." _Honestly,_ I thought to myself _it's like her job is her child she can't leave._

"If the Emperor sees that I didn't attend the sessions, he'll be even more suspicious." she added.

"Yes, you're right but since he's already suspicious, he'll most likely send for you to be killed." I tried to explain. "Go to Mandalore. I know Satine will let you stay there."

"She doesn't support the Rebellion or the Empire."

"Yes I know, but that's why it's the perfect place to hide."

"And Mandalore is full of Mandalorians who serve the Empire. It's a wonder why they don't execute her,"

* * *

 _NOW_

My eyes drink in the absence of light. The young woman, or girl, is nowhere to be seen. I assume she is off-duty, for I know it is nighttime.

The moonlight touches my face when I turn my head. Taking a deep breath, I force the reluctance out of my muscles as I sit up and peel the stiff blanket off. I'm still dressed in the last outfit I remember wearing, a black tunic and matching pants. I make my way to the closed window in bare feet.

I'm still on Coruscant, I can tell. This is a good opportunity to practice. I focus my energy onto the bottom part of my brain, I think that's how I can try to sense what is below me.


	3. Chapter 3

_THEN_

"This is where the Senator lives?"

"Yes." I replied as the ball in my stomach grew.

He kept his finger on the holo of the penthouse. "And which apartment?" he asked. "Don't lie."

My heart shook inside my chest cavity. "On this floor." I whispered, pointing to the center.

"What did you say?" his voice pierced the stale air. _I should've known better. Why didn't I listen to my better judgement?_ I mentally questioned myself.

"On this floor." I said in a louder voice. I was still clinging to that small hope of the knowledge that the apartment's highest security forces would be able to stop him from entering.

 _Yes, the security officers were the best. They_ _could_ _stop criminals like him. They've stopped many other people before._ Despite that knowledge, something stronger than a gut feeling was gnawing at the ball in my stomach and my heart.

"And?" the sound of his boots echoed as he paced the confined concrete room.

"That... is her home." I knew it was vacant from what Padmé had told me.

Narrowing his eyes in my direction briefly, the blonde man pressed a button on the bottom of the image and it faded out.

* * *

 _NOW_

It's that same woman outside. I try to push her presence aside. I'm not trying to sense _her._

There is a low humming I can feel. I know it's coming from below. This feels different from the last thing I remember. I must be in a different neighborhood. The humming I feel is replaced by the humming I hear. Then footsteps.

"Sir, is there something you need?"

I turn around as the white light banishes the dark.

"No." I tell the woman.

"You need to rest. You're lucky you didn't sustain any major injuries. You were just unconscious."

 _Just unconscious?_ I could've had a Force-Vision.

She takes a seat at the chair next to the white bed as if she's a parent of a small child.

Hoping to dispose of the awkwardness, I walked over to the bed so it was the only thing between us.

"My mother refuses to tell me about the Force." I say. "And I..." I won't ask her to tell me about it. Not now. I decide.

"Go on," she tells me. There is no pity for someone unprivileged in her voice, just the sound of someone curious.

As if taking my pause as a cue to continue, she says, "Well, you aren't being cared for by the First Order."

"I was on my way to a spaceport. They want the lightsaber." I don't know why the words slip out. It's almost as if this... Force-crafted being has a hunch of what I'm thinking and I am only confirming them. "I have to go now." I let my feet dart across the smooth surface to the door.

The woman, who is as fast as she looks but stronger than she looks, has her thin fingers gripping the black sleeve of my shirt like a metal cuff. I jerk my arm. It doesn't move. Before I can cuff my left hand around my right wrist, I feel my muscles freeze. Then my legs relax from under me, but I don't hear the sound of my knees cracking.

The woman has her hands in front of her, with her palms facing me, the expression on her face unreadable. My calves suddenly hit the edge of the bed.

"Please, I need-"

"No, I've been given strict orders to _not_ let you out." her eyebrows scrunch together in determination.

"By who?!"

"Just... calm down and I'll tell you what's happening." I know she's being sincere even though her voice doesn't project it. She takes her previous seat on the chair in front of me.

She sighs. "Have you heard of Grand Master Luke Naberrie?"

"Yes. I thought he was a myth when I was very young; my mother told me he was. I told her she just didn't know anything. She's never met him, I think."

"He isn't a myth." she takes a deep breath. "He's my father." her voice raises a pitch higher but drops to a whisper, as if she's a little girl excited about a wonderful secret she shouldn't be proud of.

"Y-your father?! Where is he? I–I need to go see him. Take me to him _now—"_

"It was thought upon that you were attempting to reach the First Order." her voice is back to a professional tone.

"Yes, but... now I–I think I know for sure he isn't a myth, I can... "

"He is busy as of this moment—"

"Is he–Master Naberrie here on Coruscant?"

"What? No. We are not on Coruscant. I forgot to tell you we're in the Hosnian system. On Hosnian Prime. Unfortunately, we will have to leave soon, or else the First Order troops will seize the planet, seeing it as it is the capital of the Republic."

"Is he _here_ on Hosnian Prime?"

"No. He's at an undisclosed location. Even _I_ don't know where he is. He isn't even allowed to tell me."

* * *

 _THEN_

Having our meeting adjourned was like being permitted to breathe when I stepped into the neon-soaked street despite the uncleanliness of it. Unlike the Upper Levels, the streets here were littered with the majority of non-humans and insects feeding off the shadows around the waste and edifices.

 _Remember what_ _Padmé you about these types of neighborhoods. You can never be too careful about who knows where you come from. Or who you are._ I told myself. Of course I knew I should've opted for a lighter wrinkled shirt and pants instead of a crisp silver-gray tunic with a golden clasp at the collar. It was sheer luck that the long brown cloak over my head kept my face and my clothes hidden.

I darted my head in both directions and sprint like a feather. As soon as I caught a vacant feel of a dark building, my feet immobilized. There was no one on the other side of the door.

With a light touch of my palm, the door swung into the dusty blackness. I stepped into it and pulled the door closed behind me. That had been both a mistake and a necessity as no other being outside would consider intruding.

I silently uttered a curse word in Mando'a that I picked up from the streets which I had not dared to use in front of Satine, whilst I fumbled for the holoprojector at my belt.

As if my ungrateful prayer was answered, my hand found itself around the circular disk-like object. I pulled it out and pressed in a few buttons as well as a combination of other numbers which only one other person had memorized.

 _"Obi-Wan."_ Satine whispered. In times like this where most communications were being monitored by Imperials, the both off us new better than to squeal at the excitement from the rarity of communicating from afar even if it was from a secured channel.

"Satine. is this a good time? Are you busy?" I asked.

 _"Why would I talk to you if I was busy?"_

"Oh. Right." I let the slightest chuckle escape before suppressing it with a sigh. "I know you aren't fond of the Empire nor the Rebel Alliance."

 _"Obi, you aren't thinking of joining the Alliance, are you?"_ I always knew that she hated the idea of someone closely associated with her, the pacifist, being involved in the very thing she was against. Sometimes I found myself wondering why she did not resent my friendship with Padmé.

Political disagreements aside, the two women seemed to get along like normal civilians women, with the majority of their conversations distanced from politics. Padmé is a kind woman, Satine told me.

"This isn't about me joining the Alliance. It's about Padmé. She apparently refuses to admit she is in danger." I paused. " _If_ she were in grave danger from the Empire, _would_ you grant her refuge?"

An unreadable expression was cast onto Satine's face from the holoprojector for five seconds.

 _"For the time that you've been off Mandalore, the presence of Imperials has increased. To make matters worse, there are Mandalorian warriors who serve the Empire. Tell Padmé that I'm sorry. She will eventually be discovered if she were to stay here. The pressure will probably be too much for her. I am not saying this from the fear of punishment."_ her eyes stared into space as if she didn't know what else to say.

"If the Imperial presence has increased, are you sure you don't want the Rebels to fight them off?" I asked.

 _"The insurgent activities will only cause destruction. You know what the Clone Wars did to the galaxy over a century ago."_

I knew from university courses. The same material was taught so many times that I could practically pass the university exams in my sleep. The Jedi were rebelling against the then-Chancellor. All he wanted for the good of the galaxy was a corruption-free and orderly society. The Jedi went as far as the assassination of the Chancellor one night at the end of the war, which resulted in his scarring, trying to fight off the powerful beings. Had the Jedi won, they would've seized absolute power and segregate the Non Force-Sensitives and use the Force to beat them into submission. The Jedi and their warrior ways are what is evil. The Emperor was a Sith. He didn't deny it. He'll use the Force for good.

* * *

 **If you have the time, please review the story. I want to know what other people think. Should I continue?**


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